


Hello there, Hélène

by Mademoisellesnowflake



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Aramis returns to the convent, Aramis-centric, Athos isn't happy, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, What else would I ever write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 12:02:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10921413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mademoisellesnowflake/pseuds/Mademoisellesnowflake
Summary: After the queen is returned to Paris from the convent, Aramis wants to return to the convent. His three friends obviously want to follow him. Why exactly does he want to return?





	Hello there, Hélène

**Author's Note:**

> So I kind of felt dissatisfied after the end of the episode with the battle at the convent (episode 9?) because Aramis just sort of seemed to forget about Isabelle right after it. So, here is what happened when I thought too long about it.

On the evening after the queen had been safely returned to the palace, Aramis had fled to his room at the garrison before anyone could ask him to spend the night over a bottle or a few at some tavern. Porthos had worn such a puzzled expression that Athos had shaken his head and gone to Aramis’ room to see what his fellow musketeer was doing. So, when they entered the room, they saw Aramis blankly staring at the wall from his bed that was across the room.

“You don’t look too good”, Porthos remarked. “Did you get hurt in the fight at the convent after all?”

“No”, Aramis whispered, still staring at the wall ever so blankly. “I’m good.”

“If you were good, you wouldn’t be staring at that wall so blankly” Athos said. “What’s wrong?”

“I have to return to the convent”, Aramis said after a long pause and stood up abruptly. “I left something in there.”

“You’re not going anywhere now”, Porthos said and pushed Aramis back to sit on his bed. “You can go tomorrow but not now; it’s almost night and we’re not letting you go alone.”

“I’ll talk to Treville”, Athos said and almost walked into d’Artagnan who was standing at the door.

“I was wondering if anyone wanted any food”, d’Artagnan said quietly. “And I wanted to see that everyone was alright.”

“I’d love some food”, Porthos said and patted Aramis’ shoulder. “And I guess so would Aramis and Athos. Are you good to go get some for us or should I come help?”

“I’ll be fine”, d’Artagnan said, “just keep the door open.”

“I have to go to the convent”, Aramis said again, his voice oddly strangled. “There is something of importance there.”

“The convent won’t go anywhere even if you wait here for one night”, Porthos reasoned, “and we’ll come with you. I’m sure Treville will let us come with you.”

Aramis nodded slowly. His quietness and stillness worried Porthos; Aramis was almost always up and about. He always spoke easily and showed his emotions freely. This kind of unmoving and quiet sitting was not like Aramis at all. Athos, perhaps, would normally act like that but even then, he too would have this slight angry edge to his quietness. Aramis’ quietness was more suffocating and claustrophobic. It was as if the room had suddenly become too small.

“I got some soup from Serge”, d’Artagnan said while entering the room with a tray in his hands, “but I couldn’t carry the wine up here with the tray so I’ll get that soon.”

“I can go get that”, Porthos said. “You stay here with Aramis.”

Porthos left the room while d’Artagnan got in carrying the tray that contained four bowls of Serge’s soup. He put the tray on Aramis’ desk and offered one bowl to Aramis. Aramis accepted the bowl quietly and started eating the warm soup slowly. D’Artagnan sat on the chair opposite of Aramis and looked at the older musketeer in silence. The silence felt uncomfortable to d’Artagnan as well; he felt like the room had been swallowed by something large and ancient. Suddenly Athos emerged from the door and the weird, suffocating atmosphere lost its strength.

“We’re alright to leave in the morning”, Athos told. “Treville doesn’t need us tomorrow so we can go visit the convent if you want to.”

“Why would you come?” Aramis asked. Athos sighed and took one of the remaining two bowls and sat next to Aramis on his bed.

“I don’t see why we shouldn’t come”, Athos said. “We’re friends after all.”

“Yes”, Aramis said quietly. Porthos finally returned with two bottles of wine and four cups. He handed one to each of them and poured them some wine. He then took the last bowl of soup and sat next to Athos.

“So, the convent”, he said. “Please don’t tell me Aramis wooed somebody in there.”

Athos, who had just managed to get some soup into his mouth, inhaled the soup which made him cough so much that Porthos had to pound his back until the coughing subsided. As he finally caught his breath, he sent a glare at Porthos.

“Oh no?” Porthos questioned and turned to Aramis. “Is this business about returning to the convent actually about returning to the woman you wooed?”

“Sort of”, Aramis said quietly and returned his mile-long stare to the wall. Porthos sighed and patted his friend’s back.

* * *

 

The next morning was bright; the sun shone and only a few clouds were in the sky. The four friends left the garrison early with some bread and cheese old Serge had given them. Aramis rode a few strides ahead of the group while the other three eyed him worriedly. It wasn’t the first time one of them had not told the others what was going on; usually whatever was wrong would be explained later over a bottle of wine and everything would be well again. That however did nothing to lessen the worry in the others.

“He better explain what’s going on pretty damn soon”, Porthos mumbled. “He isn’t being himself and that’s worrying me way too much.”

“I’m sure he will”, Athos said. “Just give him some time.”

Porthos frowned and continued following Aramis. They were getting close to the convent and Aramis slowed his horse down for a bit. They reached the gates of the convent soon enough and were greeted by one of the sisters. Soon the abbess herself came to greet the musketeers.

“It is good to see you again”, she said, “I trust the queen is well?”

“Yes”, Aramis said. “She is very well and grateful for your help in keeping her safe. Now, I was wondering about Isa– I mean sister Hélène, has she been buried yet?”

“We buried her this morning”, the abbess said. “Would you like to see her grave?”

“Yes, I would like that”, Aramis said quietly.

“Buried?” Porthos whispered as he and the other two followed Aramis and the abbess. “The girl he wooed died?”

“I… did not know that”, Athos said quietly. He had seen the look of despair on Aramis’ face after the sister had been shot but he had not known Aramis had known the sister.

The abbess led Aramis to a small graveyard at the back of the convent. She showed him the newest grave at the graveyard and smiled sadly at him.

“You knew her, did you not?” she asked.

“Yes”, Aramis replied so quietly that the abbess almost couldn’t hear him. “I knew her for a very long time…”

“I’ll have to return to my duties now”, the abbess said, “I’ll leave you and your friends for now.”

Aramis looked at the path they had crossed to reach the graveyard and he saw Athos, Porthos and d’Artagnan standing there, very unsure if they should follow Aramis. Aramis couldn’t help but smile slightly at the sight; the three were huddled together and were all anxiously looking at Aramis.

Aramis turned to look back at the grave and he sat down next to it. He could hear Porthos sighing; it would take some time until Aramis would want to leave if he had sat down. He took the old letter Isabelle had written to him after she had lost their baby out of his pocket and looked at it for a moment.

“Hey there”, Aramis said quietly. “You probably wouldn’t want to see me after all that happened; I know that if I were you, I definitely would not want to see me. I just… I really needed to come here to talk to you again… I mean you can’t really talk to me since I caused you to die and dead people can’t really speak…”

Why, oh why were his words evading him? He had just wanted to make his peace with Isabelle, not give some heartfelt speech to her. She probably wasn’t even listening, not after the way he’d treated her.

“I thought”, he began again, “I was thinking that if you met our little one… wherever you are now… I was hoping you could maybe tell our little one how much I regret that we were never able to meet… and that I really hoped we could have been a family together…”

Athos noticed that Aramis had started shaking where he was sitting. A moment later Aramis seemed to notice it too when he wrapped his cloak tighter around himself. For a moment, Athos stood there frowning but then he heard a soft sniffle from Aramis’ direction, he decided that Aramis shouldn’t be sitting there all alone. He told Porthos and d’Artagnan to wait at the end of the path while he swiftly walked to Aramis and sat next to him. He then noticed Aramis had been crying quietly for a moment. Athos sighed and began quietly rubbing comforting circles on Aramis’ back.

“I’m really sorry for bringing the danger here”, Aramis whispered to the grave, as if he hadn’t even noticed Athos. “But I’m really glad I got to meet you again in the end… I just wish you wouldn’t have needed to die for it…”

For a moment Aramis could only breathe shakily as Athos continued rubbing his back in hopes of comforting his dear friend. He had a feeling he had just witnessed the ghost of a very young Aramis sweeping over them while Aramis had been speaking. Aramis had never told Athos or Porthos much about his youth or childhood and neither of them had guessed Aramis had had someone as close as the sister whose grave he had been talking to for the past ten minutes.

“I can’t ask you to forgive me”, Aramis whispered suddenly. “But please at least forgive yourself. You never did anything wrong when you lost the child. I should never have made you pregnant when you were that young, it was unforgivable of me. I’m so sorry…”

Aramis’ last words had been so quiet that Athos had only heard them by accident. Perhaps Aramis had never really meant for anyone to hear his words. Aramis suddenly sighed and wiped his eyes. He then slowly stood up after placing a piece of paper on the grave.

“Sorry for dragging you here for this”, Aramis muttered. He walked over to Porthos and d’Artagnan while Athos stayed at the grave a little longer.

“Please don’t worry about him”, Athos said quietly. “He has the three of us looking after him now.”

Athos turned around to follow Aramis, only to see that Porthos had stopped Aramis with a hug and d’Artagnan looking as if he wasn’t sure whether he should also hug Aramis or not. Athos smiled fondly at his three friends. They would get Aramis back to his feet eventually.

* * *

 

The ride back to Paris had been even more quiet than the ride to the convent had been. Aramis had not made a single noise and even Porthos seemed like he wasn’t really in the mood for talking. As the four reached the garrison, Aramis let out a sigh he hadn’t known he had been holding. He wouldn’t be able to do more for Isabelle or his own guilt for getting Isabelle killed.

“You finally going to explain why you needed to return to the convent?” Porthos asked, irritation and worry clear in his voice.

Aramis waited for a moment before nodding. He would have to explain himself eventually and since he had managed to tell the story to the queen, surely he could manage to tell the same to his brothers.

“We probably should go inside”, d’Artagnan said. “Otherwise the whole garrison will be listening.”

“Let’s go to my room”, Porthos said. “Athos, can you go get us some wine?”

“I thought we were going to hear the reason for our trip today”, Athos answered.

“It’ll be easier after a few glasses of wine”, Porthos reasoned.

Athos grumbled something about young people drinking too much wine while the others walked to Porthos’ room. Aramis couldn’t help but to chuckle a bit at Athos; Athos wasn’t actually that much older than anyone of them, he just drank so much alcohol that he had impossibly high tolerance. As soon as they reached Porthos’ room, Aramis sat down on the lonely chair while the other two sat on Porthos’ bed. Athos soon arrived with some wine and glasses and poured some wine for everyone before sitting on the free spot on the bed.

“So, are you ready to tell us who exactly was buried there at the convent?” Athos asked.

“Her name was Isabelle”, Aramis told, “but at the convent they called her sister Hélène. I knew her when I lived with my father. We got very close and at some point, we realised I had gotten her pregnant… So of course, a marriage was arranged between us. We, or at least I, were happy about it but then the baby was lost… She disappeared without a trace for years and I tried to look for her… And I found her at that convent…”

“How did she get in there?” d’Artagnan asked.

“For years, I thought that her father had sent her away”, Aramis explained. “It was at the convent that I found out that it had been her choice to leave so that I wouldn’t have been tied to her.”

“And she got shot by the bandits”, Athos mumbled. “It wasn’t your fault that she was in the line of fire.”

“It was”, Aramis said suddenly. “If I hadn’t made her pregnant, she wouldn’t have left and if I hadn’t let her go down to get more ammunition, she wouldn’t have been shot.”

“But you can’t know the future”, Porthos said. “You couldn’t have known she was going to die!”

“Maybe not”, Aramis said. “But I could still have acted differently and made it so that she hadn’t died.”

D’Artagnan had remained silent while the other three had been arguing. Suddenly he looked up at Aramis and asked, “Your child… did you ever know whether it was a boy or a girl?”

“No”, Aramis answered miserably. “I always wished it had been a girl…”

And for a moment d’Artagnan could imagine Aramis having a daughter with a striking resemblance to her father. He could imagine the girl growing up and Aramis intimidating all the men she spent her time with.

“Maybe one day you will have a child”, Porthos said after a pause. “And the child will have the best uncles in the world.”

“I hope so”, Aramis said with a fond smile. “I really do hope so.”

Meanwhile, Athos was chugging down another glass of wine and fearing the worst.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, feedback would be much appreciated since my friend who usually gives me all the feedback isn't in the fandom :D


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